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THE DIARY OF A CHICK WHO WALKED AWAY FROM ALCOHOLICS ANONYMOUS (THE CULT)

Go-Go Rach once was a girl whose world was controlled by the idea that she was POWERLESS. After a chain of events, she realized she'd been lied to. Now she does whatever she wants, whenever she wants, with whomever she chooses to do it with.

Her blog chronicles the horrors she experienced in the halls of Alcoholics Anonymous (THE CULT) and the wonderful things she does now that she's escaped. *IF SHE BIT HER TONGUE ANY LONGER, IT WOULD BLEED!*

Monday, September 12, 2011

A BATTLEFIELD IS NO PLACE FOR CHILDREN! (UPDATED 9/17)

I am an orphan with no family and no sense of community at all because I grew up believing that every one of my family members abandoned me because they suck.

That was my mother's version of the truth.

She passed it on to me at an early age. I wore her words with honor, as I defended her to anyone who had the nerve to say anything bad about the only family member I was ever allowed to know.

My parents divorced when I was two. My mother said it was because my father is a dead beat dad. According to her, he ran off with another woman, while he refused to pay child support and used the money we ought to have to raise her family.

I grew up believing that my brother was conceived when my dad threw my mom on the floor and raped her.

Based on what my mother said, I thought my dad was a monster.

From the time I was a kid, I felt responsible for the woman who raised me. I was proud to take care of her, since nobody else was there for her or me. I cooked, cleaned, did the laundry.

My responsibilities increased as I grew older, the more I took on, the more work I had to do.

The worst job I had growing up, was when my mother had to wake up at four o'clock in the morning for work.

At nine, it was my responsibility to make sure she was up on time, or else. I was up at 3:45 am, making, then bringing her a freshly brewed cup of coffee, just the way she liked it.

She was a miserable bitch in the morning. I dreaded every day.

Man, that SUCKED.

After years of conditioning, I did whatever was asked of me because I felt bad for my existence. I felt sorry for my mother because she had to work so hard to support the kids she was stuck raising all by herself.

She never let me forget that she was all the family I had, besides my brother. She never let me forget my
father abandoned us. She made sure I knew all about how my grandmother, aunts and uncles had all screwed her over, in some way or another.

I'm sure I've got a bunch of cousins; however I would not recognize them if they walked past me on the street. I was briefly introduced to a set of twins, way back in the day, but our relationships never developed, thanks to the matriarch of destruction.

My childhood was a dysfunctional nightmare. All my life, I tried to accept the fact that we were a small family, with only each other to turn to for support. The three of us stuck together while we moved from place to place more than thirty seven times.

The holidays were pitiful.

To this day, I still hate Christmas...

When I was younger, I tried to push aside the loneliness and disappointment over limited birthdays and non existent parties that other kids at school got to enjoy and brag about, while I made up stories about what I wish had been.

Over the years, I learned how to get through it.

Before I knew how to walk, I was a pawn in every single one of my mom's battles with my family and everyone else we came across, pretty much.

After the bank robbery, I had a short period of time spent with my extended family before I went to prison, which was awkward, since they ignored my little brother, who still lived with my mom.

Needless to say, our relationships were rocky, based on my mom's version of the truth.

The presence of my family in my life promptly ended as soon as I moved to Vegas the first time to work in the movie business and help my struggling mother out, while she conned the V.A.

My extended family disappeared as fast as my dreams, while my mother tried to convince me to take my clothes off for a living and was positively furious when I REFUSED to do it (for HER).

In spite of a film degree and contacts in the business that had plenty of work for me, I did give up my hope to become a filmmaker for the true dead beat in my life: my mom.

Even though I worked my ass of for my degree, I took a job as a food runner in a fancy place on the strip, where I made enough money to support us both and began my five year run with cocaine and straight shots of Patron.

After two years delivering entrees, I moved up to become a cocktail waitress in a strip club, where I made ten thousand dollars a month and blew it all on drugs, partying and living LARGE.

During this time, I forgot about my family, while I abused substances to deal with the disappointment I felt in myself for being such a useless waste in life.

Fast forward ten years.

Even though my mom supported my decision to leave Alcoholics Anonymous 100%, especially after she realized the abuse I'd been dealt by everyone, including sponsors, counselors and my supposed "friends," she hated the fact that she could not control me anymore.

This infuriated her so much that she stole my stuff and threw me out onto the streets of Las Vegas to die.

In spite of all the nasty things I've written about my father, he came through as much as he could, which was not even close to what I needed to recover from the biggest crisis I've ever found myself in.

He is retired now, so he has nothing left over for me, the daughter he doesn't know.

My dad has been in and out of my life for years, but has grown tired of my problems and the way I have turned on him repeatedly for what I was trained to believe.

Now that I swear I understand and will never do anything to intentionally hurt him again, he doesn't trust me.

I don't blame him.

When the shit hit the fan with Cuntessa, all my online friends asked if my family would help.

What family?

They forgot about me long ago, after I stood up to them for my mother. When she stole my stuff, then kicked me into complete and utter destitution in February of this year, I was assaulted by her true colors.

Clearly, I was duped.

Her viscous eviction of me proved what my family tried to warn me about so many years ago.

Last week, my father told me not to feel sorry for myself (again). I'm trying very hard not to; however, as I sit trapped in the mountains still semi - powerless over my life, I am literally exhausted and ill from the stress of trying to get myself together after something so incredibly horrendous.

My new situation could not possibly work out, since I was misled. I wouldn't say, intentionally or unintentionally; however, it must end. I have no way to fend for myself in the boonies.

It's been a frustrating nightmare, that has put me in the exact same place I was in seven months ago, with someone who is a lot like my mom, minus even more of me and ALL of my stuff.

It's ironic.

This time, I was able to use my experience to diffuse the situation QUICKLY. I am happy as a pig in shit, in spite of everything.

I know who I am, what I want and what I am capable of.

I also know that Tolstoy and I are gonna be just fine!

I've learned so much, along this journey.

It has royally sucked, but it's been the most amazing experience of my life.

"VIPERIZE ME" has a surprise ending that will blow yer minds.

I am telling ya!

All I can do is restart my start-over, which I intend to do.

I need to move closer to the center of Asheville, where it's easy to get around on foot or by bus. This will make it possible for me to have the time required to pound the pavement and keep my face fresh to potential employers, with repeat visits that aren't possible for me right now.

I'm not calling my father for help this time. He can keep his money for his "priorities."

For whatever reason, I have been denied the family so many others are blessed with.

Finally, I get it.

My family is non existent.

I shall press on.

It's been suggested that I am in control of MY LIFE.

Never in my life, have I ever been so certain that this is TRUE.

Now that my mother is gone, I won't ever have to submit to her again.

Now that THE CULT is gone, I'll never be made to feel responsible for her abuse, or that I ever have to take shit from anyone, ever again!

PRAISE GOD.

Enough is enough already.

I'm fed up with feeling trapped.

I am willing to do whatever I have to in order to put Tolstoy and I in the position where we can FEND FOR OURSELVES!

I'll throw myself at the welfare office tomorrow.

I hope they will help us.

This is bullshit.

No matter what any of you think, I do not deserve what I've been put through.

NOBODY ON THIS EARTH DOES!

I'm over it and it STOPS NOW.

Finally, I am in control of MY LIFE.

When I was a kid, I was scared to death of what would happen when my mother got mad at me. For that I'd lose the only person who "loved" me. I spent a lifetime trying to make up for the mistake I made when I was born.

I had no idea back then what she is truly capable of.

Now I do.

I had to find out the hard way that my family left us because she made it that way to get back at them.

What a tragedy.

When I thought I was just about settled, I wrote to my extended family members to apologize for everything I'd ever said in defense of my mother, since I see her clearly now.

My Tolstoy Has Gone To Heaven

COMMENTS POLICY

You people are ill equipped to contribute to any intelligent conversation on my site, as long as you subscribe to dogma and lies.

Your comments are trite and boring and do not belong here.

Also, I will not allow you to assault my readers with the filth and perversion you call "well."

Please Note: I did not ask for your advice, yet you keep coming back in your precious free time away from meetings as a way to indulge the feelings you used to drink or drug over.

I encourage you to get some authentic help with your issues so you may get to the bottom of why you've replaced your substance abuse with the incessant need to troll the internet for places to spew your insecurities and rage.

Why bother with such a waste of time?

Some are sicker than others.

I do not welcome, nor appreciate your obsession with me.

I put up with your insanity for much too long as a member of Alcoholics Anonymous. I have a right to protect myself from those of you who insist on doing it here.

Go-Go away now and get some help before you find yourself in jail, dead or in an institution.

With love and an epic internet hug.

I do hope you feel better soon.

Go-Go Rach

SOMEONE WHO HATES YOU NORMALLY DOES FOR ONE OF THREE REASONS. THEY EITHER SEE YOU AS A THREAT, THEY HATE THEMSELVES, OR THEY WANT TO BE *YOU!*

*SMOOCH*

Thanks for stopping by. I've got *MAD LOVE* FOR YA. XXX Go-Go Rach

Check Out What Tweeps are Saying About Go-Go Rach!

"Go-Go Rach is to writing, as Madonna is to music...ever-changing, brilliant, enviable energy...on the edge of my seat to see what she does next!*SHE ROCKS*" -anonymous review of LIVING THE DREAM WITH Go-Go Rach

"http://gogorach.com by @gogorach it's a must read & that's all there is to it. Go now...read Rach."@22DanielleM

@Drifter0658@hargarmoopy Drifter, thanks for posting this link.. Just spent an hour reading the best blog I've read all year.. No kidding! :)

BIG, FAT THANK YOUS! XOXO

HEADS UP, PEOPLE!

THIS IS THE DEAL.

THE SUBSTANCE IS *NOT* THE PROBLEM.

The *REAL* issue is whatever pain the abuser needs to kill.

The substance of choice works (until it doesn't).

If we take the pain out of the equation, substance abuse will disappear.

POWERLESSNESS is a billion dollar business that has spread across our hearts and minds like a venom.

The "disease concept" kills people, lives and families every single day.

Labels LIE.

Ask "WHY?"

It's your life.

How do you want to remember it?

Don't get "sober."

Get WELL.

Revolutionary Recovery, baby!

Go-Go Rach Says:

ONE SPOKE.THEN, ANOTHER SPOKE.WE ALL SPOKE.AND IT STOPPED.

CHANGE IS COMING.

*BUCKLE UP*

"There's nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and open a vein." Walter Wellesley "Red" Smith

Get Me

I am a grown woman with a foul mouth, sharp wit, and lots of stories to tell. I will never apologize for what I write, or how I write about what interests me.

Life is not all roses and butterflies; I am fascinated by the darker side of it and the fucked up shit people do to each other in the name of "love."

I find it incredibly humorous when people read my work (over and over), then bitch about it, as if I have, somehow, tricked them about my content.

Finally, this blog is not about healing for me. I've moved well beyond the need or expectation that I might heal from the way I've been betrayed.

There is no healing from the shit I've been through.

Instead, I choose to embrace and accept the pain as a vital and appreciated part of myself.

I am a writer. I write. It's what I do and will continue to do until I take my last breath.

Until that time I will always call to the carpet the injustices I see via stories about the perpetrators. If you don't like it, don't read it.

If we behaved better, I would have nothing to write about.

That's What's Up.

“Confront the dark parts of yourself, and work to banish them with illumination and forgiveness. Your willingness to wrestle with your demons will cause your angels to sing. Use the pain as fuel, as a reminder of your strength.” August Wilson

Go-Go Rach on Google +

"First they ignore you, then they laugh at you, then they fight you, then you win." Mahatma Gandhi